


Toy Town

by purgtory (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Fluff, M/M, Post season 11/12, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/purgtory
Summary: Dean and Cas were happy to take the case at Sanctuary Springs Holiday Complex without Sam - they wouldn't want to disturb his weekend with Eileen at the bunker. They found themselves at the complex, a perfect little town with vibrant colours, strategically placed lakes and golf carts instead of cars. They work off the research they've been given about several holidaymakers who have been slaughtered in the complex, by what Sam believes to be some kind of monster. But when Dean and Castiel investigate, they discover that no one in Sanctuary Springs can remember anything about the victims. The boys slowly begin to discover that there might be more to Sanctuary Springs than they originally thought...





	

“Okay, would you mind reading me some more details about the victims?”

 

Castiel smiled, and murmured something along the lines of “As you wish,” before sorting through the wad of paper Sam had given them to find the first article. It was halfway through the pile, the corner folded over where Sam had bookmarked it as fishy.

 

“A man and a woman have been found dead in their holiday home this morning.” he began, reading aloud for Dean, who was driving. Normally, they’d already know what they were getting into before they left, but Sam had urgently tossed them out of the bunker - a hunter named Eileen was arriving for a visit in the afternoon, and Sam seemed determined to be the only one there for it.

 

“The couple, who had been renting the home in the Sanctuary Springs complex, do not appear to have died of natural causes. However, police are asking local residents to remain calm. They believe the incident to be isolated, and stated today that it is “…most likely a very unfortunate accident.” Little information has been released about the identity of the victims or the circumstances of their deaths.” Castiel concluded.

 

“Gosh, wasn’t that detailed?” Dean replied, his tone layered with sarcasm. “Have we got anything else on them?”

 

“Yes, I think we have…here.” Castiel replied. He retrieved two more sheets of paper from the pile, a follow-up article and some notes Sam had made about information from somewhere else.

 

“The second article is from a few days later. It appears to be more detailed?”

 

“Thanks, Cas. That’d be great.”

 

“The couple found dead in the Sanctuary Springs holiday home have now been identified by police as Jacob and Alana Bauer from Minneapolis. The couple were found by security staff on Wednesday. The staff at Sanctuary Springs have told reporters that they will not be evacuating the complex, and that there is no danger of a similar incident…” Castiel trailed off, finding the statement released too insignificant to read out. His scanning of the next few sentences was interrupted by a short huff of laughter from Dean. It sounded bitter rather than amused, so Castiel waited for the inevitable explanation.

 

“Those idiots. I bet they don’t even care that people died in their little town, just that people keep coming and they keep making money.”

 

Castiel didn’t know how to reply. He agreed, knowing that it would be somewhat naïve to believe otherwise. He decided to give Dean a few moments of silence.

 

The rest of the article included another police statement, a few details about the witnesses that had come forward, and a picture of the victims. The police statement was fairly standard, explaining that the couple had both suffered several lacerations on their body which were clean and did not appear to be the work of an animal. From what he could remember of his brief look at the other articles, all the people who had died at Sanctuary Springs had similar injuries.

 

The witness accounts and the photograph weren’t overly helpful, hence Castiel found his hands putting the sheets back into one pile and stuffing them into a bag. He glanced over at Dean, who risked a few seconds with his eyes off the road to give a small smile.

 

They remained in their companionable silence until Dean slowed the Impala to a stop next to the gates of Sanctuary Springs. Although in hindsight, “gates” was a kind expression. They were at least 12 feet tall, the thick rods of metal comprising them placed so close together than one could not fit a hand between them. They swirled into artistic spikes at the top, the rich world’s equivalent of barbed wire. Whilst the grass on their side of the fence was brown and dry, Castiel could see that it was lush on the other side. Thick and green, like it had been coloured with a marker.

 

From what they could see through the windshield, Sanctuary Springs Holiday Complex was essentially a few hundred seemingly identical, stylish houses placed around strategically placed mini-lakes, sitting areas and barbeques. They were connected by thin, brick-paved roads that wound daintily throughout the gated “community.” Golf carts were lined up neatly next to the administration building.

 

Dean was the one to break the silence. “Well, I don’t know about you, Cas, but this place gives me the creeps more than any haunted house.”

 

“I agree.” Castiel said. “Do you think there are people here at the moment? Or has everyone left?”

 

Dean thought for a moment before answering. “Nah, I reckon there’s still happy holiday-ers still here. A little murder isn’t going to put them off.”

 

Castiel would have thought Dean’s statement to be ridiculous several years ago, but now knows that most people in this time wouldn’t recognise danger if they were grabbed and put into a cage.

 

Ironically, holidaying in Sanctuary Springs is more like walking into one by choice.

 

Dean and Castiel’s observations were interrupted by a sharp tap on the Impala’s window. A security guard gave them a pointed look, and indicated that they should step out of the car. Dean sighed dramatically, but reluctantly opened his door as Castiel moved to get out and walk around to Dean’s side.

 

“Excuse me, ah, _gentlemen_ , but Sanctuary Springs has a strict no loitering policy which includes the area around the property. I must ask you to leave immediately.”

 

It was fascinating to see Dean slowly change from himself into the persona he created for the case. So smoothly that no one would pick it up if they weren’t looking for it, Dean’s stance and mannerisms morphed into those of ‘Charles Able,’ making the security guard realise he’d made a mistake before a single word had left Dean’s mouth.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry we were being suspicious, sir, we were just admiring the scenery from afar.”

 

Castiel had learnt some time ago that he did not possess the skill of effortlessly charming people. It was only sensible that he simply nod, agree with whatever Dean says and let him do everything else.

 

The security guard looked as though he was about to apologise – even though Dean had essentially just confirmed that they were “loitering.”

 

“Charles Able,” said Dean, smiling widely and extending his hand to the now-flustered security guard. “We’re staying in home 107 for the next few days. Would you mind letting us through so we can check in?”

 

It occurred to Castiel that Dean could have asked the security guard to hand over his wallet and the poor man would have done so.

 

“Definitely, Mr Able. You and your husband can just follow me.”

 

It had not been long after he started hunting with the Winchesters that Castiel realised people were often going to mistake them for couples – particularly Dean and himself. It stopped being awkward after the first few times, and Dean even acknowledged that as far as cover stories go, it was not a bad one for most cases.

 

Castiel still felt a little guilty about how much he enjoyed it.

 

They followed the security guard, who introduced himself as Chris, to the pedestrian gate. He unclipped a large chain of keys from his belt, and proceeded to unlock the gate using five different keys, an identification card scanner and finally, a microphone to request entry for Charles and Steven Able.

 

Dean looked at Castiel and raised his eyebrows, as if he were saying “You think they’re worried about someone getting in?” and smiled. It wasn’t a charming smile, though. Dean was worried, perhaps even a little scared. He had reason to be. If their cover got blown, or if they got trapped inside, it could be difficult to get back out into the real world.

 

They joint hands in an unspoken agreement, and walked through the gate with a nod to Chris the security guard.

* * *

 

 

“I’m so conflicted. This whole place is fake as hell, but this carpet feels like cloud.”

 

Dean was spreadeagled on the living room carpet of their holiday house, having walked in the door, seen it immediately and assumed his current position. He was waving his arms and legs in an attempt to make a snow angel. Or rather, carpet angel.

 

Meanwhile, Castiel had looked around to find the three bedrooms, media room, balcony, kitchen, dining room, games room, lower deck area and pool. The house was spacious, to say the least.

 

He really didn’t want to think about how they were paying for it.

 

Dean reluctantly hauled himself up and cast his eyes upon the rest of the main room. Apparently approving, he grabbed his bag from the couch and went to pick out his room. Castiel followed him.

 

The master bedroom was, as Dean remarked, froofy. There were at least 10 decorative pillows on the bed, all of which matched the grey, white and red colour scheme. The entire rear-facing wall was comprised of floor to ceiling windows, covered by immense blockout curtains.

 

Castiel could pinpoint the exact moment when Dean decided that there was no way he was staying in the master bedroom. He expression change from wide-eyed observation to mockery in seconds.

 

“Nope!” Dean said, with a short burst of laughter. “Way too...mansion-ey. I’d be scared to break something. You want it?”

 

“No thank-you, Dean. I was thinking I might just sleep in one of the single beds. Besides, I think the other double room will be more to your taste.”

 

Dean immediately dropped his bag in the hallway to explore the other room. About ten seconds later, he returned to pick it up, and Castiel heard the soft thump of it being thrown haphazardly onto the bed.

 

“You’re a good judge of room, Cas.” Dean hollered from within it. “Hey, check out the bathroom. This shower is ultra-fancy. There’s buttons!”

 

Castiel walked into Dean’s room, past the bed and into the attached en suite. It was nice, with black tiles and little decoration.

 

Dean was struggling to test the various functions of the shower without getting wet, balancing on one leg with the other stretched out behind him for balance. Castiel watched in amusement as he successfully tested the normal, massage, steam, soap and high pressure functions.

 

Disaster struck when Dean leant over further to flick the furthest switch on the panel, marked “raindrop flow.” Just after he flicked the switch, he overbalanced and fell into the stream of water. In a quick rescue attempt, Castiel grabbed his ankle. He did not, however, pull Dean back up right away.

 

It should not have been as hilarious as it was, seeing Dean dripping and indignant for such a simple reason as falling over. Holding back a sheepish smile, he offered Dean his other hand to help him up. Begrudgingly, Dean took it and hoisted himself up. His upper body was soaked, despite his efforts not to get wet. Castiel knew the look of utter displeasure on Dean’s face was largely for comedic affect, but he couldn’t stop the short huff of laughter.

 

A wicked smirk spread across Dean’s face, and Castiel saw revenge was imminent.

 

“Dean…” he said in a pathetic imitation of a warning. He began preparing to shield himself from the water-based attack he assumed was coming, reaching for one of the towels next to the sink. His fingers curled around it, ready.

 

It was a standoff. In the few moments they spent in the stare-off, it was easy to forget the reason they were there, the murders, the fact that they were on a case. The fact that they were two grown men about to engage in a water fight of some kind. It was a little cheesy, but Castiel didn’t care at all.

 

Castiel planned his strategy. Dean was most likely going to move the shower head so that it was pointed towards him. On the current setting, the best possible trajectory of the water could be avoided if he stepped backwards and to the left, or out the door. But in order to truly win, he would need to do so without getting wet. Thus, he would probably need to use the towel as a shield any way.

 

If Dean figured out that the high pressure setting would go much further than the raindrop flow setting, Castiel would almost certainly lose.

 

What Castiel did not anticipate was Dean’s lack of such adequate planning. Instead of simply turning the shower head, he grabbed Castiel by the shoulders and pushed him into the shower, aided by the element of surprise. Surprised at having been defeated, Castiel blundered in the water for a few moments.

 

But Dean’s tragic flaw was his arrogance. After the initial confusion, Castiel was back to formulating the next foolproof plan. Meanwhile, Dean was in hysterics. In the back of his mind, Castiel supposed his misfortune would be mildly humorous, but did not warrant Dean’s amount of laughter.

 

Dean was enjoying his small victory too much. And it would not be without a counter attack.

 

Dean, despite his laughter, was probably expecting Castiel to attempt to pull him into the shower as well. So that would not work. Instead, Castiel would feign getting out to dry himself with a towel, then somehow push Dean back into the shower and retreat downstairs. He would have a towel, but Dean would not dare attack for fear of getting the carpet wet.

 

The plan was flawless.

 

Castiel pretended that he had accidentally swallowed some water, coughing and spluttering as he stumbled out to get a towel. Dean wouldn’t attack him if he had his defences down. He grabbed the first towel on the pile and quickly wrapped it around himself, pretending to shiver and looking at Dean with contempt. It was an award-worthy performance.

 

Dean’s laughter was gradually replaced with a hint of concern, and he was about to speak when Castiel barged into him with his shoulder, making him step quickly back into the shower to keep himself balanced. Castiel made his great escape, and very nearly cackled at his own genius.

 

The rest of the plan was executed perfectly. Castiel stood grinning on one side of the living room, Dean on the other, well away from his luscious carpet.

 

Dean didn’t keep his fake look of contempt for long, and was laughing with Castiel after a few seconds. It was easily the most fun Castiel had ever had in a fight.

 

Both of them stood there in their soaked jeans and shirts for a few minutes, suddenly exhausted. Castiel shivered, the ridiculously strong air conditioning cooling him down. It was worth it.

 

They could afford the small lapse in concentration. But now he and Dean had to get back to work. There was a holiday monster to kill.

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-daaaa! Instead of updating my other fics, I'm starting a new one. But I like this one much more, and thus will definitely update it soon. What did everyone think? Terrible? Too fluffy?
> 
> Next chapter: Dean and Cas begin to investigate the murders, and and confused by what they find out.


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